I drag myself out of bed just before six. After ablutions, I pack. My three bottles of pisco fit in fine.
I check out before going for breakfast. Our taxi is due at seven. I have to wait around for a while anyway, because it isn’t yet 6:30, when breakfast service begins.
Karsten turns up soon after me. It’s a good start to the day as they have bacon again. I eat it with some scrambled egg.
 |
A breakfast of bacon, scrambled egg,coffee and mango juice. |
Andreas arrives. It’s him I’m sharing a taxi with. As he’s on the same flight to Amsterdam as me. And he’s promised not to break my arm. I make all my travelling companions sign a lengthy waiver. As anyone sensible would do.
Our taxi arrives on the dot. And is soon whisking us along surprisingly deserted roads. Then I remember that it’s Sunday. Easy to lose track when you’re away.
The formalities quickly completed, we make our way to the Skyteam lounge. And again, the bastards won’t let me in. Luckily, Andreas has platinum status and I can get in as his guest.
 |
Santaigo airport lounge with an airliner in the background. |
Not that I get much. Just a couple of coffees, orange juice and a bottle of water for the plane.
Boarding is fairly painless and quick. Before long we’re making the short hop to Buenos Aires.
We’re given a pastry item. Not sure what the filling was. I get a red wine to go with it. I eat maybe a third. I finish the red wine, though.
We’re at gate 19 in Buenos Aires. Giving us quite a walk to security, And then back again. As we have some time before we can reboard, Me and Andreas drop by a bar right next to our gate. A Quillmes and an empanada for Andreas, a Reserva San Juan, for me.
 |
A glass of Reserva San Juan. |
It seems to be some sort of brandy. The measure is very decent. And just $7,500. However much that is. It’s not bad. I get myself a couple more. It’s a long flight, after all.
Back on the plane, he people sitting around me are all completely different from the first leg. How odd.
I get a chicken meal which isn’t too horrible. Along with another red wine.
I watch some stuff. It’s Florida, man, The Menu, Family Guy, What we do in the Shadows, and some shitty romcom Sweethearts was it?
And Indiana Jones and the Dial of Destiny. Which is complete bollocks. I don’t quite catch how it ends as I drop off. It’s that gripping.
I don’t sleep all that well. I can’t really get comfortable. I do manage to doze a bit, though.
After the lights come back up, we’re served some food. No idea what it is. At first, I think some sort of omelette. But the few bits I can carve off it are sweet. It’s like trying to cut a rubber tyre with a plastic fork. I decide it’s not worth the effort of eating. There’s a fresh fruit salad, which is OK.
We arrive at gate E03. Yippee! Not too much walking. At first, they said we’d be picked up by bus.
There’s quite a queue at passport control. But none at all at the machines. I’m through without a wait. That comes at the carousel. Where I hang around for 20 minutes or so waiting for my bag.
The taxi ride isn’t the quickest as traffic is quite bad on the motorway.
As always, Dolores has a cup of tea waiting for me.
Disclaimer: a fee, my hotel and
some meals were paid by the Chile Independent Beer Week.